


Evnig

by GreenOrBlue



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Anal Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Flint is a hot celtic barbarian, I suck at tagging, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Seriously tho, Slavery, and jack too, but he's still a little shit, flint speaks breton, silver is pretty fucked up, silver!slave, silver's legs don't work very well, we'll see a lot of vane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6608587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOrBlue/pseuds/GreenOrBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Flint’s tribe decides to take revenge from its long time ennemies, the amazons, they burn down their town and bring back some of the prisoners as trophies and slaves. Silver is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walk Of Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is my first fanfic. And English is not my first language, so consider yourselves warned. Also I don't pretend to speak Breton so there might be tons of bullshit in the parts where Flint speaks it. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it ; (I'm scared shitless to publish this thing honestly)  
> this is a very short chapter, because hell, i don't know if people will like it so it's kind of a prelude i guess ?? hope you like it

 

 

> _When a male child was born, the Amazons disposed of the baby. Some stories say the Amazons sent male children to live with their fathers. Others paint the Amazons as cruel, mutilating the child and then leaving him to die. A few male children, however, were allowed to live and raised as slaves of the tribe._

 

The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming, making him gag and beg for fresh air. Corpses were lying on the ground, warriors and guards, his sisters. His mother. He felt nothing looking at her glassy eyes, her face half eaten by the fire. He had to get out of the house. Smoke was filling his lungs, eyes wet and mouth dry. But the horsemen were still here. He could hear the beasts stomping on the dead bodies and the pavement, the last amazons fighting to defend their town. It was a lost cause. Silver knew it. He had seen the horde of savages, riding their ridiculously huge horses, killing their best warriors with an insulting ease. He couldn’t run away from them, he couldn’t stay here and hide. He was condemned to die here, amongst his sisters and mistresses. His hands began to shake, panic filling him. His life wasn’t precious to anyone, he was nothing but a slave, but he couldn’t stand the idea of death. Dark and void, chained to Hells and welcomed by Hades. Smoke was making his sight blurry. His fragile legs flinched and he met the floor in a pained gasp, door at only a few meters from him. His eyes closed by themselves, he felt dizzy from the smoke and the heat. Silence. The door jumped open and he stopped moving. It wasn’t difficult; his body was heavy, he just had enough strength to cough weakly before passing out. With luck, he would die now and not in the hands of the invader that had just stepped into the house.

When Silver regained consciousness, he just had enough strength to push himself on his side not to choke on his own vomit. He could barely see, his sight so blurry he couldn’t recognize anything but walking shadows taking down doors and going out houses hands full of items, sometimes with a new prisoner or a corpse in their arms. He spat on the ground, his legs painful, unable to move. He smelled of death, ashes and puke. Disgusting. Still, he managed to sit, violently coughing. He gasped for help, mute from the smoke previously inhaled. Everything hurt. His head was the worse, pounding and making him want to go back into unconsciousness. The voice behind him made him jump. Masculine, much different from the male servants the Amazons kept around. The foreign language wasn’t understandable to Silver who only knew some greek and latin alongside his native language. Still, he managed to turn his head toward the voice, meeting one of the barbarians that had attacked the town. His face was covered in blue paint, teeth slightly crooked. He had red hair and similar beard and smiled like a predator. Silver could immediately tell that he wasn’t man to fool around. The warrior seemed to wait for an answer. Even if he actually could speak his language, his throat hurt too much for him to say anything. He just shrugged in panic, eyes wide and heart beating too fast. His breathing was loud, laborious. Gods, everything hurt so bad. From the other man’s view, he must have looked too pitiful to be left to die. He didn’t know if he was grateful for that.

His lack of answers must have annoyed the man because he just put back his strange mask on and left without a word. If he could get his legs to work, maybe now was the time to escape. Everyone seemed too busy plundering the houses and reassembling actual prisoners. There were four groups of them; he had no doubt that at least one was going to be slaughtered. He had all his bets on the wounded persons and unfirms that seemed to be thrown in one of the group. But he sure as Hells wasn’t going to stick around just to prove his point. His crooked and too many times broken legs weren’t going to carry him, this he was sure of. He probably would have to crawl. Fortunately, the notion of pride was a foreign idea to Silver and he just backed away from the main square on his belly, crying from the pain he was not very good at enduring. He just had taken a good distance from the action that his back was met by a kick that cut his already painful breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Frustration wasn’t enough to make him forget the pain, but it was a close thing. He tried to yell when the foot continued to dig into his back but nothing more than a whimper crossed his lips, and that made him even angrier. What was the point in stopping him ? He couldn’t even walk, even less fight ! There wasn’t anything to fear from him, or any reason to keep him around. This was just an execution. Nothing more. He was going to be thrown away with the group of useless prisoners and put to death by barbaric assholes. Maybe it was the blood of his mother, but he felt need to fight. To bite and scratch, struggling like a wounded animal. But it just made the man that stopped him laugh and kick him one more time. So Silver just stopped. Maybe it was time to accept the fact that he was going to die.

“Paouez, Singleton.”

That made the pain stop. That also made the want of Silver to die suddenly disappear. Because in front of him was the red bearded man, still hidden by the scarf he wore on half on his face. Still, his eyes were cold and menacing enough that it made his torturer take a step back. Now he knew who was in charge of the group of warriors. Silver looked up to the two men who were eyeing each other like two wolves waiting for the first one to move.

“Paotr eo ma re.” Added the ginger male.

That seemed to do the trick and his aggressor returned with the other warriors with a disapproving grunt. Whatever was the reason of his intervention, the masked man saved him. He was pretty sure he also was the one that got him out of the burning house. Silver tried to smile, false and too shiny, like always.

“Thank you.” He managed to say in Latin, hoping that the man would understand, even though he couldn’t speak louder than a whisper. At least, his politeness would still be intact. And maybe he was a bit sincere too. Crushed by a boot wasn’t a very noble death after all.

To his surprise, the red-headed male answered.

“Don’t thank me yet. Come.” He ordered.

“No.”

That seemed to upset the man who frowned, his fists clenched and his teeth grinding with tension. Silver realised there probably was a misunderstanding. And also that his interlocutor was pretty hot blooded to react that quickly.

“I can’t walk.” He justified his statement by rolling up the sleeve of his pants.

“I can’t walk.” He repeated.

Nasty tradition, breaking the legs of the new born males in order to make them slaves. It wasn’t pretty to see, but Silver was a lucky one. He only got them quashed at five, and a least he wasn’t blinded like some. He could usually walk. Slowly, but he could. Right now, he was too weak to even consider getting up. He quickly hided the slightly crooked and too thin legs and looked away, ashamed. He hated his wounds. Deformed limbs, constantly bruised and scarred. He limped like an old man, pathetic and useless. At least, he had a brain and a quick mind. That saved him from being killed more than once. He was agile with his hands, often given weaving work. He also knew his way around herbs, could recognize most of them, tell which one to use to relieve pain, or on the contrary, to kill slowly and painfully. He wasn’t a bad slave amongst the amazons, and that was probably why they kept him around for so long.

The man just watched him, no pity in his eyes.

“Then crawl. You seem good at it.”

 

 + + + +

 

He was right about the group of wounded prisoners. All killed, burned along with the other victims of the attack. At least their souls wouldn’t be condemned to wander on earth forever. The barbarians left at dawn the next day. His legs could carry him, but he would certainly not keep the pace very long. The first ten minutes of walk were a torture. He kept falling, slowing down the other prisoners he was attached to. All women, all warriors. All thinking he would be better off. Sometimes they pushed him in purpose. Sometimes they would simply drag him on the ground. After an hour of walking, they just seemed to be done with him. A burden to carry around. Silver was intrigued. Why didn’t they killed him already ? He didn’t have much of a purpose in his state. And he kept feeling the gaze of the red-headed stranger on him, like he kept an eye on him, made sure he wasn’t going to escape. No much risk here. The links around his wrists were tight and his legs wouldn’t carry him very far anyway.

After his umpteenth fall, he simply gave up getting up again. He was exhausted and as much as he wanted to live, this walk wasn’t physically possible. Nobody tried to get him up, instead yelling at him for being an useless little shit. Maybe it was one time too much, but once again the barbarian latin-speaking man came to rescue him. He got off his horse, cut the links attaching him to the other prisoners and gave him a lift on his mount. The animal didn’t seem bothered by the new weight. Silver didn’t react before he felt the chest of the man against his back. The horse quickly caught up with the others. Before he could say anything, the man cut him off.

“Shut the fuck up. “

Well, of course it wasn’t in Silver’s nature so he spoke anyway.

“Why are you keeping me ?”

“Because I want to fuck you.”

Well, that was said. Even though he didn’t mind much the thought (nobody ever wanted to “fuck him” so that was kind of new), he tried to determine what would push this man to choose him amongst the others. Actually, he didn’t even know that men could fuck each other, though they didn’t keep many males around in the amazons’ town. 

“Well, aren’t you some twisted bastard.” He said, laughing softly.

He didn’t look behind him but he was pretty sure the man was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Stop it, Singleton.  
> 2\. The boy is mine.
> 
> Hope you liked it ! Leave kudos so I know if I have to write other chapters or not !  
> I made this just to illustrate my first crappy writing ! http://tinymeasure.tumblr.com/post/143073383470/when-a-male-child-was-born-the-amazons-disposed  
> 


	2. Unity

Silver was exhausted. Trying to save your own life was a pretty tough job, to say the least. But right now, he didn’t feel threatened and the sudden lack of danger made him sleepy. Maybe he should have felt alarmed considering the man that lead the attack against his town was pressed against his back. But honestly, there wasn’t much in his mind except for the memory of his mother’s dead body and the want to wash, drink and sleep. Not waking up ever again started to look like a good idea. His eyelids were almost as heavy as his limbs. He was still thirsty and had difficulties breathing, but at least the pain in his legs was gone. As much as it could go away anyway. The cough was starting to become annoying though. He tried to make it silent not to disturb his apparently new “master”, but without success. Being invisible was one of the main rules as a slave and Silver had never been great at following this particular mantra. Though he didn’t feel like testing the limits of his boundaries right now. He was too tired for this. He just coughed against his right sleeve, his lungs hurting from too much inhaled smoke.

He must have seemed really pathetic for a few seconds later he was given water by his new keeper. Not that he was complaining; he didn’t have a problem with looking pathetic. He didn’t thank the man, too eager to soothe the itching in his throat. He drank until the taste of vomit and ashes was gone and the man offered him a disapproving look when he gave him back an empty gourd with a grateful smile. But no one said a word. The rocking of the horse and the backrest provided by the man’s chest did nothing to keep him awake. He passed out some minutes later, throat finally appeased and breathing slightly eased.

An encounter with the ground awoke him. He fell on his shoulder and almost hit a rock, but the red-bearded man just smiled at him and got off his horse.

 

“What the fuck ?!”

“You sleep for hours. We have arrived to the camp. Follow the other prisoners.” The man ordered without even looking at him. That much for any kind of respect. If he had any doubts, now he was sure of it: He was just downgraded from slave to dog.

 

He didn’t answer but it took him a good minute to get up, still sleepy alongside his legs which felt itchy from the long horse ride. When he looked up again, the man was gone. He managed to catch up with the other amazons who were led toward some sort caged carriage. Once again, even if he decided to run away, he would have to steal a horse. First of all because he had no fucking idea of where he was and the closest city was probably kilometres away and secondly because his shaking legs weren’t much in good shape right now. It was a miracle that he managed to climb up the carriage with the others. Their drunk jailer laughed at them for a few seconds before closing the door and leaving them alone. Probably to get wasted with the other warriors who seemed in good shape to celebrate their victory.

 

“Well look at who we have here. Hope the horse ride was agreeable. Of course the men would stick together.” Spat an angry voice behind him.

 

Silver just ignored the comment, trying to concentrate on what he could observe from the weird celebration of the barbarians. Music and a lot of alcohol seemed to be involved. Even for the red-bearded man who sat a bit apart from the group. He had taken his odd-looking scarf off and was drinking alongside a ferocious looking man. Long haired, his companion had strange patterns painted on his naked torso and his face. Silver suddenly wanted to know what they meant.

 

“Don’t ignore me, slave! Why is it you didn’t die with the others? What did you promise to the enemy so that you didn’t have to walk?” The woman seemed upset. Silver couldn’t blame her. She probably lost her friends and family today, and the long walk seemed to have used her shoes and hurt her feet.

“I can’t walk and one of their warriors wants me as his slave. That is why he took me on his horse. I would have slowed you down anyway, so I don’t know why you are complaining.” He answered, cold and tired. Too tired to even fear the consequences of his insolent explanation. Except that the Amazons didn’t take pertness very well, especially from a man. He didn’t see the slap coming, but oh did he feel the burning sensation on his cheek.

“Calm down Idelle! You know he isn’t responsible for this, as much of a man he is.” Interrupted another female prisoner. “Leave him alone and go take care of your wounds.”

 

The other voice sounded familiar. Silver definitely heard it by the past, though looking at the woman he didn’t recall having seen her before. Maybe it was the fact that at least one thing was reminding him of his lost everyday life, but he couldn’t stop a shaking sigh coming out of his mouth. “Idelle” seemed as wasted as him so he just nodded at her in hope that she would take the sign as a temporary peace declaration. She did, and simply went to sit on the other side of the cage to tend on her swollen feet. If Silver saw her trying to hide her tears, he didn’t point it out. Everyone was exhausted and shaken up, no need for another fight. Especially a fight he was sure of losing.

The owner of the familiar voice didn’t ask for permission before sitting down next to him.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“As much as you are. Except it weren’t my friends who died back there, but my mistresses.”

 

She didn’t answer. She simply looked at him with her beautiful green eyes.

 

“I am sorry.”

 

He shrugged. Not much use in being sorry anymore. He didn’t even know why she was apologizing.

 

“I knew your mother you know. She was a good woman. A fine warrior too. She didn’t deserve to die.”

“She broke my legs when I was five and left me without care in hope my bones would grow back deformed. She was a fine warrior, yes. She wasn’t a good woman. If she ever had been good, she would have killed me when I was born, not condemned me to infirmity and servitude.”

 

The woman didn’t answer. But he could feel pity in her eyes, and that only made him feel worse. The silence between them was heavy. He felt like he needed to say something, but for once was at lost for words. Fortunately, she seemed to have guessed his uneasiness and changed the subject.

 

“My name is Max. I was the intendant of the city.”

 

So that was where he had heard her. Her monthly public rapports about the town’s economy were as boring as her function.

 

“John.” He answered.

“I know.” She simply smiled at him, like he wasn’t just a slave to her some hours ago.

 

This time the silence between them was more confortable. He fell asleep against the bars of the cage, Max against his side, rocked by the laughter and the music coming from the celebrating barbarian camp.

When he woke up the next day, it was chilly and wet. Max had curled against him and he didn’t feel the need to push her away. It was so early the birds hadn’t started to sing yet. He could hear some soft snoring coming from the prisoners around him and that strangely comforted him. He wasn’t alone. Even though he was just a slave, he still had his people around. They knew better than anyone what he was going through right now. And if they were to survive as war trophies for an unknown people, then they would have to stick together.  All of them.

It was an hour later that the women started to wake up. Idelle first. Silver suspected she didn’t had much sleep. Her eyes were red and her braids undone. Max was one of the last to wake up. She snuggled against his arm, mumbling in her sleep. She took a certain time to recognize the whereabouts and her relaxed expression quickly changed for an anguished one. He simply waited for her to regain full consciousness before sassing her.

 

“You snore. Also, I can’t feel my arm anymore.”

 

She snorted in answer, trying to repress a smile. Her cheek had his sleeve’s mark on it, and her hair was a complete mess. But she looked better than the day before so that was that. Actually, Silver was reassured to have her on his side. The other girls seemed to respect her, and she was educated and smart. A good diplomat that could keep them organized and unified. Clearly annoyed by her wild hair, she quickly braided it and went to check on the other prisoners. She cared for the other girls; even a blind man could see that. He wasn’t sure if that was a strength or a weakness. Too busy observing the strange scene of Max comforting terrified younglings, he jumped when Idelle touched his shoulder to catch his attention. She didn’t wait for an authorisation before sitting next to him.

 

“I was nervous last night, I do apologize.”

 

He nodded, saying nothing more. This was probably the best he could get out of her. And he didn’t actually blame her for anything. The Amazons were raised to despise men, even the ones that shared their blood. Actually, he thought he would be dead by the morning, beaten to death for them to let off a little steam. He looked at her feet, rolled up in dirty tissue.

 

“Does it hurt ?” he asked.

 

She just shook her head.

 

“Not much anymore.” She paused and looked at him with her puffy eyes. “Here, let me braid your hair. They’ll get in the way if you have to fight to escape.”

 

He smiled softly. That was a thought full of hope. He didn’t want to break her naïve dream but that wasn’t very likely to happen. Anyway, she didn’t seem to take a “no” for answer and he was better on her side. He noticed how her hands were shaking when they brushed his wavy hair, braiding them with ease and tying them with one of the thin band of leather she had attached to her wrist.

 

* * *

 

When the convoy took the road again, Silver wasn’t given a choice. The red-bearded man almost threw him on his horse and he was separated from his people once again. Except this time he didn’t feel the murderous stare of Idelle on the back of his head. Instead, he felt nothing but the alcohol-perfumed breath of his keeper. He didn’t even know the name of the man. It didn’t matter much actually, since he was a slave and that wasn’t his place to ask. Except Silver was still Silver, and he took a lot of beating for his boldness back in the days.

 

“So, what will I be screaming when you take me to your bed?” He asked, so polite that it sounded almost aggressive.

“Who is talking of a bed? I could take you on the floor, where dogs are supposed to be.”

 

Well fuck him then. He didn’t have to know that bastard’s name. That wasn’t important anyway! He’d find a way to escape before the man laid a finger on him. He froze when he felt a hand creeping up his back to reach his braid, tugging it gently.

 

“That’s a nice girl’s plait. Did you want to look pretty for me?” The man laughed quietly and that made Silver want to spit at the man’s face.

“Says the man with a pigtail.” He answered, almost snarling.

 

Silence took over. Silver tensed, waiting for some kind of pain in result of his insolence. Nothing came except for a laugh.

 

“Flint. My name’s Flint.”

“Silver.”

The smile he got for his answer made his skin crawl. Predator.

 

The travel was longer than the day before. Maybe because every movement from the man made him jump, or maybe because this time he was fully awake and extremely nervous. That seemed to piss “Flint” off and more than once he pinched him and ordered him to stop being so giddy and annoying. By the time the sun was up high in the sky, his stomach started to growl. Pretty loudly actually. When Flint got dry meat out of his pocket, even though that didn’t seem very appetizing (not to say absolutely disgusting) he felt his mouth drooling and he eyed the food with envy and anger. Because holy shit, the man was totally eating in front of him just to piss him off.

 

“Are you hungry, Evnig ?”

 

Silver nodded with suspicion, not trying to hide the truth.

 

“If you ask me nicely, I’ll give some to you.” Flint added, visibly satisfied with himself. Gods, Silver wanted to punch him. But his stomach didn’t agree much.

 

“Please.”

“I think you can do better than that.”

“ … Pretty please, can I have some food so that I don’t die from hunger on your stupid horse?”

 

Flint cracked a smile and gave him three pieces of meat. Silver ate one and stashed the other twos in his pocket. The rest of the travel was silent. He vaguely remembered dazing off for a few minutes, and by the end of the day they almost had reach their next camping spot. Except for the sudden agitation of the horses. The next thing he understood was that they were surrounded by bandits and that Flint had his axe in his hand. He fell on the ground and this time, his first reaction wasn’t to express his dissatisfaction of being thrown in the dirt, but to walk (because of course, he couldn’t run, thank you mommy) toward his people, trying to open the door of the cage for them to escape. Except he wasn’t strong enough, and he sure as Hells didn’t know how to pick a lock.

 

“Get down, on the floor !” he yelled when the bandits started to shoot arrows on the barbarians warriors, killing some of them outright.

 

If he had to die now, after all of this, he was going to shit on Hades face, he swore to the Gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect anyone to actually read this shit ! Thank you for your comments !  
> This time's chapter is a bit longer, I hope you like it :)


	3. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the time I took to write this chapter ! I'm in my exams period so it's a bit complicated. I do hope you'll like it anyway :D enjoy ~

Silver couldn’t get a grip of what was happening. Hidden behind the prisoners’ carriage, he didn’t dare take a look at the action. He could hear horses neigh and the sound of steel against steel, screams of pain and fury. Even after ordering them to get on the floor, the Amazons in the cage seemed to enjoy themselves way too much. They were out of reach of the arrows and no one was really paying attention to them. Some were cheering, other booing, bloodthirsty. That kind of fight would have been an easy one if the barbarian warriors weren’t so tired and hangover after their battle against the fierce amazons and their celebration of yesterday. And it occurred to Silver that it was probably the best chance they would have to escape. He just needed something heavy enough to break the lock of the cage. Max, who wasn’t as involved in the show as the others, seemed to have read his thoughts. She threw herself against the bars to get closer to him, wanting to be heard over the noises coming from the battlefield.

 

« An axe ! Try to find an axe ! » she screamed, pointing on the other side of the cage, toward the centre of the action.

« You’ve got to be kidding me ! I’m going to be killed if I go there ! »

 

His reaction seemed to exasperate her.

 

« Why are you men such fussy little creatures? You may be male but you have the blood of your people, grow a pair and prove yourself! »

 

She stared at him, severe. This was suicide, but Silver suddenly felt capable of anything. And this was dangerous because Max had found the correct words to make Silver, all coward was he, motivated into running in the middle of a battle without even caring for his life. And that’s what he did. High on adrenaline, he jumped on his feet and limped toward the fight. He didn’t even feel the pain in his legs, hands shaking hard as he threw himself on the first corpse he found. He managed to steal an axe from the dead’s hand and started to go back to the women in order to free them. Just a few steps and they would be free. Even famished and tired, they would be able to take down a bunch of wounded soldiers, he was sure of it. At least Max was sure of it, and he strangely believed in her. He had to prove himself. But the carriage looked suddenly so far, and the throbbing in his legs didn’t make it easy. The axe was heavy. Too heavy. It slipped from his hands. His knees were weak, couldn’t carry him neither. He fell on the dirt, wet from the dew and the blood. Mud splashed his face, but kept Max looking at him, full of hope and encouragement. She nodded, like she trusted him with this. But the truth was that he was her last hope of escaping. If they managed to win over the rest of the warriors, if they succeeded in their attempted escape, Silver would most likely be left behind. Stray dog, left to die in the middle of nowhere. That perspective made him freeze. He couldn’t get up. He didn’t really want to.

 

Both of his choices were unfair. On one hand, he could help his people but would probably end up dead as a reward. But if he decided not to act, to let the door closed and the women behind the bars, then what choice would he have? Being reduced to a bitch in heat, fucked by a stranger. No, this wasn’t a life. And as much as Silver wanted to live, something in the back of his head kept telling him that maybe now was the time to give up. That he could swallow a coin and exchange it against a seat in Hells. Maybe then, everything would stop hurting all the time. This thought haunted him as he got up and dragged the axe behind him. The women suddenly stopped cheering, watching him with big eyes and open mouths. Idelle was the first to yell encouragements at him. She looked so sure of herself, screaming that he could do it. That he was her people, and her people never gave up.

 

When he finally reached the carriage, his head was spinning from the effort. If he stopped now, he wasn’t sure he could ever get up again. So he swung the axe on his too thin shoulder, and let it fall on the lock. Nothing. He tried again. And again. And again. Until he cried from pain and frustration. He didn’t really know why he was so upset about this. How could death motivate him that much? But then he looked up, and everyone was staring at him with expectation. Women, some of them even just old enough to be called girls. They had fed him, raised him. Sometimes beat him and humiliated him. Gods, he was so fucked up. He was trying to rescue his tormentors. What was wrong with him?

 

He lifted the axe once again, taking aim on the lock, and hit. But nothing changed. The bloody thing was too strong. His arms hurt because of the heaviness of the weapon; still he tried again, hoping that a miracle would break the lock open. Max’s voice stopped him.

 

« It’s alright John, it won’t work. You tried. It’s alright. »

 

Her voice was soothing, but Silver felt nothing but panic at her words. He could do this! He could! But her hand slipped through the bars to reach his cheek, and he was so tired and weak. The axe fell on the ground in a loud thump.

 

« I’m sorry… » he almost sobbed. « I’m so sorry. »

 

She shook her head and Idelle reached at him too, a sad smile on her usually emotionless face. The view of the two women made him forget about the angry others who were screaming at him, pointing out his uselessness. But it didn’t matter anymore, because someone was finally looking at him with some sort of pride. He sat on the ground and waited for his head to stop spinning so much. When he felt like he could get up again, the battle was at its peak. Archers were down, skull smashed by their opponents, and they had been reduced to approximately the same number on each side. He took support on the bars of the cage and started to limp again toward the battlefield. Max looked at him, curious.

 

« I can’t get you out, but I can try to find something useful. Small weapons, easy to hide.  You’ll just have to wait for the right moment to hit! » he said, outguessing her before she could ask. She simply nodded, not wishing him good luck. Idelle did, her voice weak and easily misheard.

 

Searching the corpses wasn’t as difficult as waving an axe. He kept himself away from the fights, and was miserable and muddy enough to go unnoticed. He filled his pockets with sharp objects and daggers and took as many gourds as he could carry before returning to the women. Except he hadn’t planned for Flint to suddenly appear in front of him, falling under the weight of an opponent. The bandit was huge, and as much as good Flint was with an axe in hand, he didn’t seem able to win this fight alone. And maybe it was the desire to be useful, or maybe it was frustration. Maybe he simply wanted to prove himself, to have someone witness him in a rare act of bravery, but he took in hand one of the many daggers he had found, and stabbed the bandits on the back of his neck. The resistance he met when sliding between the vertebrae surprised him and the sound of crushing bones made him gag as he pushed the blade further in the man’s throat. This had been strangely easy, to take a life. When the enemy collapsed on the ground, Flint was watching him with feral eyes. His face was covered in blood and he simply stared at Silver, not saying a word. For a moment, Silver feared that the man would go all berserk on him, but nothing like that happened. Flint just got up and returned into battle while Silver continued his way to the carriage where Max and Idelle were waiting for him. He sneaked the smallest blades to them and gave them the gourds he had found on the bodies. Except for Idelle and Max, no one thanked him.

 

It took at least thirty minutes for the warriors to get rid of all the bandits. After that, everything got terribly quiet. Silver couldn’t see much from where he was sit, but he had managed to catch a glimpse of Flint, and that strangely relieved him. He had killed for the first time today. But worse, he had killed to save his jailer. Maybe he had a thing for his masters. First the Amazons, now the man who had killed his family.

 

“Maybe I’m really insane.” He said to himself.

“Yeah, well I won’t argue with that.” Max answered, her cheek resting on the bars of the cage.

“What can I say, your speech was strangely motivating.”

 

She laughed, glaring at him with something more than amusement.

 

“You know, I didn’t think that you would actually risk your life to get us out of here.”

“I didn’t think I would neither.”

 

Nothing more was said afterward. They just sat in silence, and when the barbarians decided to walk a little more before tending to their wounds and settling camp, Silver limped behind the carriage in silence. He couldn’t stop thinking about the snap of the bandit’s neck, the noise it had made. The thrilling of it all. He was so lost in the memory that he didn’t even react when they finally stopped. His painful legs took him back to reality. He needed to sit and rest. But even that he couldn’t visibly afford, because as soon as he touched the ground, Flint came and ordered to follow him. And Silver didn’t have much choice except to obey.

 

It wasn’t really surprising that Flint invited him to drink as a way to say “thank you for saving my life”, but he appreciated the gesture. He sat next to the man covered in paint from the other day and was given a chop of a strange beverage Flint called “Beer”. He wasn’t fond of it, but it warmed his throat and made him dizzy enough that he could forget about the pain. Flint’s companion didn’t speak Latin but it wasn’t difficult for Silver to guess that he and Flint were talking about the losses of today. They had burned their dead right after the battle with the bandits but that didn’t make the grief easier. He dozed off a little, light from the alcohol and the heat of the fire, and when he came back to his senses, he was alone with Flint. Silence was confortable, at least as much as it could get considering the circumstances. Flint was the first to talk.

 

“Thank you for saving my life earlier.”

 

That seemed to take a lot of effort from the man, and Silver rolled his eyes, finishing his beer in one gulp.

 

“Wasn’t the drink here to say ‘thank you’ already?”

“I just wanted to make sure you understood that I’m grateful.”

“Well I understand and you are very welcome.”

 

Flint sighted and made a move to get up, but was stopped by what seemed to be pain. Silver was pretty good at recognizing it.

 

“Are you hurt?” He asked. Not that he cared, really.

 

Flint simply shook his head and started to walk away, holding his shoulder like a wounded puppy. His mistresses were right: Men.

 

“I would be quite displeased if I had to walk for the rest of the travel because my new master wasn’t smart enough to admit he wasn’t invincible.”

 

Flint stopped to glare at him. Silver returned the gaze and smiled when the barbarian finally gave up.

 

“One of the bandits grazed my shoulder. I may need stiches.” He admitted, almost shameful. That made Silver cock his head, wondering why it was so difficult to him to admit he was wounded.

 

“You are lucky slaves are taught how to sew.”

 

They went to Flint’s tent. It was small and simple. Just some thick furs laid on the ground and a candle planted in a cup of dirt. Flint gave him a small bag with food, wine, water and some medical necessary and he immediately started to prepare the needle, burning it with the candle until it became red. Meanwhile, Flint took off his leather jacket and his shirt, showing his back to Silver. That made Silver freeze for a moment. Of course, if he wanted to kill Flint, he would have let the bandit do the dirty work so there was nothing meaningful in this display of trust. Still, that made Silver’s heart beat faster. He poured water on the wound to wash it from the blood. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It was deep, but thin and easy to stitch. When he began, Flint was untenable. He kept flinching and that quickly put Silver on nerves.

 

“Gods, stop moving! You’re making it hard.”

“It fucking hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, dumbass, what did you expect?”

 

Flint didn’t answer, swearing in his native language before forcing himself not to move as Silver finished. He quickly rinsed and wrapped the wound in bandages and smiled, proud of his work. He put his hand on Flint’s back, gently patting it.

 

“Done.”

 

He expected Flint to move as soon as it was finished, but he stayed and glared at Silver, as if he expected something more. So he put back his hand on Flint, retracing the freckles with trembling fingers. He didn’t have any fucking idea of what he was doing. Still, he kept caressing the pale skin with fascination. He contemplated tasting it but supressed the thought as soon as it popped in his mind. That was wrong. So fucking wrong. He withdrew his hand, as if he had been burned.

 

“I wasn’t lying.” Silver raised his head to look at Flint, startled. “When I said I chose you because I wanted you.”

 

Fuck. This was a bad time for this kind of confession. Because right now, Silver was very curious of what sex with Flint would be like.

 

“I know.” He whispered back, suddenly feeling really shy.

“Do you like the idea of being wanted ?” Flint asked, serious.

“I don’t know.” He says, honest. “I have no idea of what men are supposed to ...”

 

Flint cut him before he could finish.

 

“Kiss me.”

 

And that he did. He leaned forward and awkwardly put his mouth on Flint’s. He had kissed women before, but this was different. This was new, a bit rough and clumsy. At first, he didn’t quite know what to do. He let Flint move his lips against his. It was slow and tender and that surprised Silver enough that he forgot to return the kiss. Without response from his part, the barbarian moved away. Silver could feel his cheeks burning of embarrassment and frustration. He had stupidly frozen, confused by the softness and the innocence of the kiss. The way Flint’s mouth had gently caressed his, kept his hands for himself despite his obvious want. Before he could say anything, Silver stole another kiss.  This time, he didn’t make a complete fool of himself. He slid one hand on Flint’s bare skin, retracing old scars on his side while the other found its way on his neck. The touch seemed to please the man because he grunted and suddenly pressed Silver against him. When their mouths finally parted, they both were out of breath, flushed against each other as if they had wanted to fuse. Flint spoke first.

 

“You should go back to the others.” He whispered against Silver’s mouth, not making a move to let him go. Quite the contrary, Silver was sure he could feel Flint’s grip on his hips getting stronger.

 

“Is this an order?”

“No”

 

Silver simply smiled and kissed him one more time.

 

“See you tomorrow. Make sure not to sleep on your shoulder this night.”

 

Flint nodded and Silver walked back to the Amazons. The man on guard this night made him enter the carriage and Silver almost laughed at the irony. He had never felt so free than by walking back to this cage by himself.


End file.
